The Men of St Mary's Go On A Camping Trip (the Lymond Chronicles)
by MyNameIsJeanValjeanAndImJavert
Summary: I can't believe there is no Lymond fanfiction on this site Written for a swap on tumblr. Lymond, Jerrot and the gang go camping. Lymond is facetious, Archie is high on gatorade, and Jerrot is bitter as always. Please review if not for me than for yourself there are like five people ever who have read the series and I share in your pain


September 2016 A.D.

Virginia

It was, Jerrot thought, an insipidly delightful trip. The weather was glorious, the food decent, and everyone was sort of getting along. The only bad thing about the entire adventure was that it was so short. Despite his best efforts and intentions, Jerrot was rather enjoying himself.

He was even beginning to forget why he was so gloomy in the first place. It had been one of the vicious arguments he was always having with Lymond, probably about Marthe or Gabriel or Philippa or politics or religion or whatever stupid comment one of them had made. Afterwards Jerrot always felt a little mixed up, as though a hurricane had swept through all his carefully organized thoughts and principles and left them in disarray.

He sighed, resigned to cheerfulness, and went off smiling to look for Archie.

In his subsequent search he found himself looking all around camp. Adam had also mysteriously disappeared, but Fergie Hoddim and Randy Bell were passionately arguing about the proper way to make s'mores. Or, at least, that was how the argument had started; at some point it had shifted to the Mexican-American war and then to the affect oil prices had on the economy. Either way, they were neglecting their one task, which was to build the fire.. Lancelot Plummer (Jerrot had tried to think of him simply as Lancelot once, and it was just wrong. He was the sort of person who needed two names) had taken over, which was lucky, because he actually knew how to build a fire.

Lymond, who had organized their expedition into the terrifying world of northern Virginia camping grounds, was supposed to be getting out the ingredients for s'mores. Or building tents. Jerrot was positive he was supposed to be doing something. Instead, he was sitting on a big blue cooler Hercules brought, plucking away beautifully and maddeningly at a guitar and humming Neil Young songs under his breath. Lymond was consistently the most beautiful and maddening person in a group, Jerrot thought. It did not help that Jerrot was positive Lymond wasn't really as unthinking as he seemed. He probably had a great scheme in his head for the rest of them to carry out.

 _ **Meanwhile..**_

Archie and Adam had been gathering firewood by the little creek. "Had been" because Archie had declared that it was pointless to gather firewood and had tried to convince Adam to wade in the stream and catch minnows. Archie knew a lot about minnows. Adam let himself be distracted, reluctantly at first, and then enthusisastically, as he felt the sun beam down and the lovely weather whittled away at his resolve, until he was happily picturing landscapes to sketch and listening to Archie prattle on about squirrels.

The sun sank resolutely behind the trees as they wandered along the path. Adam realized suddenly that it was quite dark, his bad leg was aching, and he had no idea where they were.

"Archie? We aren't lost, are we?" he said.

"Ohh" said Archie. He was probably the only person in the world who could say 'oh' in such a disapproving and decidedly Scottish tone of voice. "Oh. No. Not really. Just a wee bit, maybe,"

"Glad to hear it," said Adam flatly.

 _ **Later…**_

"Has anyone laid eyes on Fergie or Adam?" said Lymond commandingly. He was standing on the cooler now, like a politician on a soapbox.

Jerrot was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

Fergie coughed discreetly. "I believe they were looking for firewood,"

"That was an hour ago," said Lymond coldly. "And neither brought a cell phone. Well. Everybody grab flashlights. We'll meet back here in half an hour. Fergie and Randy, you go to the creek, I'll go to the path, Lancelot, watch the camp. Jerrot, you head south to the lake,"

He sprung down from the cooler like a cat, and ran off to get flashlights. There was a brief silence, all too familiar an experience after some of Lymond's declarations.

Jerrot scoffed, loudly. "It's like he thinks we're at war, or something," he said. "The woods aren't even that big,"

The others nodded sympathetically and agreed with him, but went about their respective tasks anyway. He was half-tempted to simply declare he was going to stay at camp, but it _was_ getting sort of dark. And perhaps he wasn't ready to face Lymond's verbal whiplash again...

It took an hour or so of stumbling about in the woods until Jerrot found Archie and Adam. Adam was sitting on a rock, bored out of his mind, his leg aching. Archie, on the other hand,was extremely energetic. After realizing they were lost, he had apparently chugged a few powerful energy drinks he had packed. He said it always pays to be prepared. He didn't respond when Jerrot asked why he didn't bring a cell phone.

"What's going on, then?" he had asked instead, pretending not to hear.

"Lymond's been organizing search parties," said Jerrot, resigned. "I think he's rather enjoying himself,"

Another hour or so later, and the stars were out and ridiculously bright. Archie and Adam had prepared to face a lecture by Lymond, but he had taken pity on them- probably because Adam looked pathetic as a kicked puppy and Archie was still bouncing around like a monkey on steroids. Fergie was carefully toasting marshmallows and Archie was eating them amid his bouts of spontaneous dancing. Randy and Lancelot Plummer were listening to Adam tell a ghost story. Jerrot, bored by the idea of dead people and phantoms, and spurred on by some alien self-destructive impulse, sat down cross-legged by the fire next to Lymond, who was staring at it darkly.

He had been going to say something to provoke a fight, or to apologize, but all he managed was a rather lame comment on how nice and useful the fire was.

"For the night is dark and full of terrors.." said Lymond.

Jerrot blinked. "Was that a game of thrones reference?"

"Yes, Jerrot, it was," said Lymond lightly. "Now how can I help you?"

"I'm not always trying to start a fight, you know!" said Jerrot. "Maybe I just wanted to make conversation!"

"Sorry," lied Lymond, grinning. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I don't know," said Jerrot. "Camping is nice, but don't you ever feel small, looking at the stars?"

"Bright star, would I were as steadfast as thou art, not in lone splendour hung aloft the night…" said Lymond. "Not really. I've always felt a little too important, frankly,"

Jerrot turned to him with something bitter on his lips about arrogance, but Lymond was, for once, laughing, and without reason, Jerrot was suddenly laughing too.

He was still planning on being melancholy and sulky, but then Fergie caught a marshmallow ablaze, and nearly burned an outraged Archie, and Adam very nearly had to stop a brawl, while Lancelot Plummer was laughing so hard he could hardly speak. Lymond sprang up from his seat, eyes sparkling, and Jerrot wondered with a sinking feeling if he was going to make some speech about taking themselves seriously and ruin their fun. But instead, Lymond picked up his ridiculous guitar once more, and began to strum. Archie, high on the twin pagan gods of caffeine and gatorade, began to sing in a surprisingly operatic voice.

Yes, thought Jerrot with a strange feeling he thought might be contentment, he was enjoying himself.


End file.
